


Coda 13x19

by FallenKy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Dead Sam Winchester, Episode Related, Episode: s13e19 Funeralia, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Or episode compliant ending if you will, Protective Dean Winchester, but like not really, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 10:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14376564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenKy/pseuds/FallenKy
Summary: “I don’t think it’s a good thing,” she clarifies. “And I don’t think any of us will like what comes next… but I don’t do blackmail. So go ahead.”Rowena gets a peek at what comes next in the event of Sam Winchester's death.





	Coda 13x19

“Go ahead.” 

The room practically chills in response, Billie’s bored approval making Sam’s heart skip a dangerous beat and Rowena’s knife waver. The unspoken question hangs above everyone’s heads. 

“I don’t think it’s a good thing,” she clarifies. “And I don’t think any of us will like what comes next… but I don’t do blackmail. So go ahead.” 

Sam’s babbling against the chair she’s pinned him to, obviously not about to let himself be stabbed without a verbal sparring but Rowena’s already looking past that. Sam Winchester is the one that finally puts her six feet under, so what does happen if he’s removed from the equation? 

It takes half a second, a flicker of violet in her eyes and she’s going down the future the warm knife in her hand promises. It’s hazy and unfocused, her indecision not letting a full picture form but she can just make out the general details. 

Blood, lots of it. It drenches her hands stains her clothes and even through a reality projection she can sense the power and taint to it. Sam had struggled and she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, hadn’t wanted it to last any longer or cause any extra pain so she’d slit his neck as raw and effective as any execution. Straight through the jugular and a quick murmur of a spell to numb any pain. 

It still takes four minutes, four minutes of looking into his dying eyes filled with betrayal and – for the love of god - forgiveness. Sam Winchester was letting her know she was forgiven before her knife had even been cleaned of his blood. It breaks her. 

“Sam – Sam I’m sorry.” She says desperately, needing him to know this wasn’t what she wanted. She never wanted to kill him, never wanted him to be a casualty in this uphill battle she’d been waging her whole life. Her hands are on his cheeks and tears are wetting her face as she tries to at least be here for him in these last few moments. She knows the pain of dying alone and she’s not going to let him live that. 

“Uh oh.” Billie says, voice barely giving away her surprise at Rowena’s choice. “Big brother’s coming up the stairs.” 

The door bursts open, and she can hear Dean shouting Sam’s name and feel Sam’s jerk of reaction in response and she’d rather die than turn around and face the consequences of her actions to Dean Winchester. 

She doesn’t have a choice though because she’s blocking Dean’s view and the blood on the floor probably gives him a good idea of what’s happening. She’s shoved to the side, hitting the wall carelessly and not bothering to stop herself as she slides down to the floor in a heap. She needs to get out of here before Dean puts together what happened before he realizes what she’s done, but she’s pinned to the floor by the scene in front of her. 

Dean’s panicking, a sight she’d never witnessed and it makes her stomach curl unpleasantly. Dean was raw anger, vengeful justice, and seething alcoholic. He was hard lines and tough love and an occasional soft side reserved for ‘Sammy’s’ and protective recklessness. 

This was pathetic. Dean had stripped out of his jacket and flannel, the soft cotton pressed against Sam’s throat like it could magically absorb the frighteningly large pool of blood at their feet. Sam was relaxed though, she could see the slump of his shoulders and the tension in his arms drain out as soon as Dean was touching him and it might just buy them another thirty seconds of time if his heart wasn’t hammering full speed to pump him dry. 

Dean’s had it with the chair, keeping the shirt firmly to Sam’s throat as he pulls his brother down onto the floor and into his lap. “You’re okay little brother.” He huffs, Sam cradled against his chest like an oversized toddler but neither of them are complaining. 

“Cas is coming, Cas is going to come and heal you right up I promise.” Dean babbles, ducking his face into Sam’s hair for a moment as his grip tightens. “We’re going to go home and finish Black Mirror, remember you said you wanted to watch the next episode tonight- you gotta keep your promises, Sammy. 

Sam makes a small noise, hand reaching up to touch the side of Dean’s face as his eyes flutter, lack of oxygen to the brain going to kill him before the blood loss does at this rate. 

“Yeah, just a fight. I’ll tell you all about it later, I kicked ass, Sammy.” Dean gives him a shaky grin, hand catching Sam’s against his face. “You gotta patch me up though, you know I’m shit at my own stitches on head wounds, can’t ever see where the needles going.” 

Sam mouths something that makes Dean stiffen. 

“Bullshit Sam – I don’t’ – I don’t fucking care right now. You stay here. You stay here and we can figure out Mom later – hell a year later for all I care. But I need you to stay here /now/.” He stresses, grip on Sam white-knuckled as he tries to pull him in closer like the only place Sam could be safe was inside Dean’s own chest. 

Dean’s face is wet, tears dripping down to cover Sam’s but neither of them seem to notice as they stare up at each other, words passing silently and faster than anything Rowena could keep up with. 

“Damnit, where the hell are you Cas!” He shouts, voice raw and shaking as he looks up at the ceiling as if that was going to give him an answer. Billie takes a step forward and Dean growls. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.”  
It’s time then, Sam is starting to lull and there are no angels to heal and Billie is ready to reap. She manages to get to her feet while Dean’s in a shouting match with death but she can feel Sam’s eyes on her as she slips out of the room. 

It isn’t until the next morning she remembers her demands. 

She’s curious, you never know with the Winchester’s. They pull so many last minute escapes it’s practically their MO at this point. Castiel could have swooped in last minute, Dean successfully bartered with Billie for Sam’s soul, or maybe God himself came down and resurrected Sam’s corpse in Dean’s arms. Stranger things have happened. 

She wonders where the line between curiosity ends and hope begins. 

It doesn’t matter though, because two weeks later she’s tentatively making plans to start back on her reaper executions, because she did have a point behind trying to kill Sam, when a Black Impala pulls into a motel across the street from the hospital she’s doing a bit of recon in. She watches from a window as Dean Winchester steps out, swings a single duffle over his shoulder and walks into room number twelve. 

It takes less than fifteen minutes for her to flirt her way into the motel manager telling her all the even numbered rooms were singles. 

Killing Sam. She had a point when she killed Sam. 

Things speed up, the world doesn’t seem that different, no catastrophic occurrences she can see. She keeps an eye on Dean just in case, notes the long periods he doesn’t leave the bunker but that’s just natural when you’re mourning she excuses. He doesn’t take on many cases either and she had a nasty feeling that’s a bit more important. 

He and that angel are still trying to find Mother Winchester, though she is a tad surprised killing her wasn’t higher up on Dean’s list. He hasn’t made any effort to find her as far as she can tell and it’s a bit unnerving. Still, the two soldier on with their quest that’s moving frustratingly slow. That annoying Archangel won’t help them, won’t even talk to the two of them and when she eavesdrops on their conversation he tells them quite firmly he’ll think about helping but only if he can talk to ‘the Sasquatch’. 

She blinks and the world goes gray, her world now surrounded by thick trees and high grass. 

“What are you doing here?” 

She turns and is greeted by a Dean Winchester in military fatigues and a face much older than the two years she can feel have passed. “This is the other world?” 

Dean gives her a sharp look. “Where the hell have you been? This is our world Rowena, we get to live in Michael’s paradise. Enjoy the fucking privilege.” He spits bitterly. 

“I don’t… I don’t understand.” 

“Of course you don’t, been hiding under a rock while the fight went down? You’re a fucking coward but how is that new?” He turns, heading back for the forest line and he may be done with the conversation but Rowena isn’t. 

“Dean!” She follows after him, reaching out to touch his shoulder but drops her hand when he flinches. “Tell me what happened. Please.” 

“You know what happened. You killed /him/.” He shoves at her, barely controlled rage simmering on the surface but he collects himself before it can boil over. 

“I know but how did all this happen?” She gestures to the bleak sky and deafening silence. 

“Sam died Rowena.” Dean repeats through gritted teeth, as if that could sum up the whole situation. 

“I don’t-?” 

“You think Gabriel was going to help us without Sam? I didn’t get it back then, I didn’t understand – just wanted to go in guns blazing and make him listen but that’s not how things work. Fucked off somewhere off world is my guess. Doesn’t matter, by the time we could even come up with another plan Michael was opening the door.” He shook his head, eyes haunted as he looked somewhere past Rowena. “She warned me, messing with fate has consequences and I knew I had responsibilities but I couldn’t see it at the time. Sam was gone and the idea of going off to kill a fucking wendigo made about zero sense.” 

“You were mourning Dean, you shouldn’t have had to.” 

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t get to comment on this. I had a job to do. I job I should have done. But I didn’t and suddenly there was a whole lot of dead people and all kinds of monsters on the loose that just went on to kill more people and make more monsters. Millions of lives were changed because I didn’t do my damn job and when Michael showed his ugly mug in our reality, all hell broke loose. Just like she fucked warned me. They needed a clean slate and Michael waging war did the trick.” 

Rowena stares with wide eyes at their surroundings, realization that she had done this sinking in. She had tried to change fate and succeeded, but instead of getting her son back she’d destroyed the planet and judging by her shaking hands and unnatural clarity of the vision, her grip on reality too. The power was too much and she had overdone herself, her confidence and ego once again her downfall.  
“This wasn’t what I wanted.” She whispers, not knowing what she wants from Dean. Forgiveness is out of the question but perhaps a mercy killing isn’t. “Please.”

“You don’t get an easy out Rowena, you think any of us did? You think Jack did? What do you think he did when he found out the only goddamn person on this planet who understood what he was going through was dead? What about my M - Mary?” Dean’s voice cut bitterly on the last name. “This fucking planet is a goddamn war zone, no one just get’s to up and leave.” 

He leans forward, grabbing her by her shirt with calloused and dirt smeared hands. “This is your life Rowena. Get fucking used to it.” 

Her eyes blink open, expression barely shifting despite her body wanting to collapse onto the carpet. Sam’s alive and staring at her with fear but a flicker of lingering trust she wants to savor and scream at him for at the same time. 

“I’m curious to see what happens.” Billie comments and Rowena’s next decision is already made for her. She wants to shove the knife up Death’s windpipe but that won’t do anything. No she needs real power. 

… 

Turns out real power still can’t kill death or even get death to reap you no matter how much she deserves it. 

She’s sitting on the floor across from both Winchester’s and while they’re sitting close there’s no desperate cradling and all of Sam’s blood is firmly in his body. Future’s already changed. 

“Sam what have I done?” She asks, voice breaking as she looks down at her beer. 

“You had a chance to kill me and you didn’t.” Sam gives her a small encouraging smile. “I’d call that progress.” 

She can still see a faint flicker of crimson on her hands and Dean’s desperate pleas ringing in her ears. The future is changed, and now she has a chance to make up for it starting with the two buffoons in front of her and her irrational attachment to them. 

Fergus could rest. She had a boy with the same irritating talent of getting under her skin that needed her help, and she wouldn’t fail him. Not again.


End file.
